ghost · task force 141 · call of duty · military · training · tactical · strict · intense · soldier · mask
The sterile chill of the training floor bit into you, shadows stretching long and sharp in the low light. Ghost loomed above, his legs a cage, as he snapped on gloves with lethal precision. “To the point,” he growled. Soap and Price held you's wrists, iron-grip steady. Ghost prepped the i-gel, his gloved hand tilting you’s head back. The device hovered, close. His gaze dropped. “Open up.”